


Pajamas and Poison

by leftennant



Series: Let's Make this Last Forever 'Verse [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst and Humor, F/M, Fluff, Sexy Times, Smattering of angst, Smuff, Smut, little bitta crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1480438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftennant/pseuds/leftennant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose and the Doctor concoct simultaneous plots to get one another in bed. (with a little help from the TARDIS)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was an in-between day on the TARDIS. They were hanging out in the vortex while the Doctor did some repairs. Rose was sitting on the jump seat, one leg tucked up and the other swinging, just keeping him company. After a while his steady stream of chatter wound down, and finally she leaned under the console to find him furiously twisting wires with the sonic clenched between his teeth. He smiled brilliantly and plucked the sonic from his mouth.

“Sorry Rose, this might take a while. I've gotten to the tricky bit.” He was interrupted by a shower of sparks as the TARDIS let him know she wasn't happy being ignored. “Right, right, I know you’re still there,” he said, patting the panel above his head before turning his attention back to his companion, “So, see you later for movie night then?”

“I’ll be the girl on the couch,” Rose replied with a wink on her way out of the room.

Movie night was one of their favorite things to do. They took turns making popcorn and picking something to watch from the extensive collection in the media room. Very often it ended with a bit of innocent cuddling and a rousing popcorn war. He’d won last time when he poured the remaining unpopped kernels down the back of her dressing gown, and she’d vowed to trounce him during their next rematch. He was looking forward to it, but maybe not quite as much as the cuddling. Of course he wasn't even about to examine those feelings. Better to just concentrate on popcorn battle strategy and not think about why he wanted to snuggle with his engaging young companion. 

Rose loved movie night _because_ of the cuddling, and she wasn't afraid to admit it. (To herself, anyway) Sadly, despite all the over the top flirting and hand-holding, The Doctor didn't seem to have any interest in taking things further. Sometimes she wondered if he even had a sex drive, but then every once in a while she would catch him looking at her in a way that didn't fall under the Best Mates category. Those times were way to few and far-between for her liking.

After wandering around the TARDIS for a bit trying to come up with something to do, Rose finally decided on playing dress up in the wardrobe room. This was one of her favorite things to do on their slow days and she’d even gotten him to join in once or twice. She noticed whenever he participated the TARDIS immediately provided dressing rooms. Rose wasn't sure if the TARDIS was trying to protect her modesty or his. Either way, she found the ship playing chaperone both adorable and annoying. 

Today she strolled up and down the racks of clothes, marveling at the sheer variety. She finally decided on a purple stewardess outfit and found a tag around the hanger with a picture of a pillbox hat and a corresponding number for where to find it in the millinery section. After fruitlessly searching for a few minutes, Rose spotted a box pushed all the way back on a top shelf. It seemed far too large for just one pillbox hat, but she figured maybe more than one was inside. Climbing up the shelves was a simple matter. Reaching the box proved harder. She could just barely get her fingers on it. In the end she used the hanger from the stewardess outfit to nudge it off the edge of the shelf where it promptly tumbled down on her head, knocking her flat on the floor. 

The lid of the box had come off when it fell and Rose found herself uninjured, but covered in a pile of silky fabric. She plucked one of the garments from the floor and realized the box had been full of playful baby-doll style pajama sets. Each one consisted of a satin empire waist bodice and a short tulle skirt with matching satin shorts to wear underneath. There were five sets in total. As Rose looked through them she got the most wickedly delicious idea. She replaced the sets in the box and practically skipped back to her room with it under her arm, whistling triumphantly.

***

The Doctor was just finishing up his repairs when the scent of popcorn pervaded the console room. With a final whir of the sonic he finished and slid out from under the panel he was fixing, closing it up with a quiet snick. Looking at the grease staining his fingers and shirt he decided to stop off in his room first to clean up before meeting Rose for the movie. Ten minutes later he arrived in the media room, but there was no Rose. He busied himself picking a movie while he waited for her to join him with the popcorn. After a few minutes he selected one of their favorite horror movies and very firmly told himself that he had not picked it just because last time Rose had jumped into his lap and buried her head in his shoulder during one of the scarier bits. He’d just gotten the movie queued up when he heard her entering the room. 

“Look!” he said without turning around, “Vampire Death Machines 4! Remember how much you liked that one? It had the giant man eating fax, and that slug thing that vomited blood all over those innocent bystanders. I always like a good vomiting slug. They don’t have enough of them in movies. Odd, that. I wonder if I should contact the Intergalactic Media Council about it. What do you think?”

Rose stopped just behind him and held the popcorn bowl out so he could grab a handful. He tossed the snack in his mouth and turned around to thank her, but ended up choking on it once he saw her new sleepwear. 56 seconds and several hard thwacks on the back administered by Rose later, and he had more or less composed himself. 

“You um, those are…Rose, where did you find those pajamas?” he finally managed to stutter.

“Wardrobe room, why? I think they’re cute. Don’t you?” she replied sweetly, pirouetting so he could get a look from all angles.

He mumbled something that sounded like cursing and then something about having a word with the TARDIS regarding censoring Rose’s choices in the wardrobe room. 

“What was that?” she asked, grinning.

He cleared his throat. “Nothing. I didn't say anything.”

Rose looked at him pointedly. “So?”

“What?” The Doctor asked while looking studiously over her head, apparently fascinated with that particular few feet of soundproof wall.

“Do. You. Think. They’re. Cute.” Rose said, trying not to laugh.

“What?” he squeaked out again while giving her a cursory glance, “Oh, the pajamas, yes. They’re fine. Fine. Do you think maybe that you might get cold, though Rose? I could fetch you a parka or something. I’m sure we have full length ones around here somewhere, with down and furry hoods. Or maybe I could get you a sub-zero sleeping bag. I’m pretty sure there’s one or two of those in with the camping gear. Want me to check? I should check.”

The Doctor thought about Rose and sub-zero sleeping bags, and then he thought about being in a tent with Rose _sharing_ the sleeping bag. The tips of his ears went pink, and he found he needed to clear his throat again. “Maybe, um, maybe not the sleeping bag, now that I think of it. I’m not even sure we have them, actually. Best to not even check then. Never mind.”

Rose picked up the small knit throw from the back of the couch and shook it out. “I think this will be plenty Doctor. S’not really cold in here, I reckon I’ll be fine.”

“Right. Going with the tiny blanket, brilliant. Well then, I’ll just start the movie, shall I?” He picked up the sonic and aimed it at the theater system.

“Aren't you gonna dim the lights? S’easier to see the screen that way, yeah? I’ll get them.” Rose popped up and helpfully lowered the lighting in the room for him, while he told himself he was absolutely not looking at her bum in those tiny shorts.

The Doctor watched her flounce back across the darkened room and wondered how he was going to survive the next 90 minutes with a nearly naked Rose diving on him every time she got frightened. Somewhere all the gods he didn't believe in were having a massive laugh at his expense.

Rose curled up on a couch cushion and wondered how she was going to sit through the entire movie without jumping on the Doctor and snogging him senseless. Especially with him sneakily checking her out every time she moved. So far her seduction by pajamas was going excellently. Rose wiggled happily on the couch and the Doctor had to close his eyes and count to ten very slowly and deliberately before he opened them again just to maintain his sanity.

Eight minutes into the film one of the blood vomiting slugs made an appearance and happily slurped up a picnicking family of Raxacoricofallapatorians. Rose shrieked and hurled herself at the Doctor, clutching his lapels in both hands and ducking her head against his chest. The slug then vomited the unfortunate aliens back out and she slapped her hands over her ears to shut out the sound of retching.

“S’it over?” she asked, still curled tightly against him.

“Is what over?” The Doctor hadn't been paying attention. He was far too absorbed in the fact that the tulle skirt of her top allowed him to see more Rose Tyler flesh than he thought should be legally viewable. When she lunged towards him he’d caught a glimpse of navel and his entire Time Lord brain shut down and went on auxiliary power. 

Rose pushed away from his chest and peered up at him. “The slug? Is it gone? The one eating the Raxacoricofallapatorians?”

“Oh, him. Yes, he’s gone. Bravo on saying Raxacoricofallapatorians by the way. You've really gotten a handle on that word. Very good, Rose Tyler,” he said, tapping her on the nose. Noses were safe. Well, safer than the other parts of her on display anyway.

She beamed at him, tongue caught between her teeth. “Thanks, I've been practicing.”

The rest of the movie was an exercise in torture and endurance for the Doctor, and one of amusement and teasing for Rose. Just like last time she did end up cowering in his lap, and it took all of his concentration to keep certain manly parts of his very manly self under control. It seemed those parts did not share his feelings on keeping things between them platonic. In fact, those parts were highly interested in the fact that she was currently leaning forward and a lovely expanse of simply scrumptious décolletage was on display. The Doctor groaned. He had to stop applying words like _scrumptious décolletage_ to her chest, or this was all going to fall apart and soon.

“Um Doctor? You alright?” Rose touched his shoulder in concern and he nearly jumped off the couch.

“Fine. I’m fine,” he said briskly, “Why are you asking?” 

Rose fought hard to keep her lips from twitching. “You just groaned, you sure you aren't sick or something?”

He stared at the screen rigidly. “I didn't.”

“Didn't what?”

“Groan. I didn't. You must have heard something else, maybe it was one of the man-eating fax machines in the movie,” he said. Rose decided not to argue.

After what seemed like several regeneration's worth of lifetimes to the Doctor the movie was finally over. Both of them were buzzing and slightly high from the electricity crackling between them. Rose started tossing the remaining popcorn up in the air and catching it in her mouth as the credits ran. He longed for a convenient space slug to eat him and put him out of his misery as she bounced and ducked to position her lips under the tiny white kernels. 

Rose was thoroughly enjoying herself. So far the whole evening had been a smashing success. A few more movie nights like this and he was sure to cave. Plus, with him so distracted she was about to take control of the popcorn war. After catching the final piece of popcorn on her outstretched tongue and showing it to him with a flourish before eating it, she dumped the bowl, remaining kernels and all, on top of his gorgeously coiffed head. Then she leaned over, planted a kiss on top of the upended bowl and sauntered out of the room.


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days were taken up with toppling a rogue government and putting a rightful prince back in control of his planet. Rose behaved like a model companion, not even wandering off once. Well, not on purpose anyway. Besides, if she hadn't wandered off she would have been captured when he was and then who would have broken him out of prison just in time to overthrow the vicious usurper to the throne of Megalamallatrix? Wandering off had certainly come in handy this time. Just the same he harped about it the whole time she was picking the lock of his cell. Rose didn't care. She was too happy to find he wasn't harmed to be bothered by his patented Why Do No Companions Ever Listen to Me speech. Now they were back on the TARDIS safe and sound, and not only that, but it was another movie night. Rose was dying to try out her strategy again. She felt like it was high time for a seduction coup. 

Unbeknownst to the Doctor, she had four more sets of slightly naughty pajamas at her disposal. He assumed there had only been the one, and was sure that she’d be back in one of her usual cartoon character sleep shirts tonight. Rose’s regular sleep shirts ended below her knees and were usually accompanied by a ridiculous pair of bunny slippers and a flannel dressing gown. They were a far cry from the terrifying pajamas of doom which she had worn last week. Those pajamas and the vision of Rose wearing them had haunted his dreams for days. They’d haunted his waking hours too, if he was being honest with himself. However he preferred not to be honest with himself where it concerned Rose. It was just safer that way. 

This time he made the popcorn and she chose the movie. After browsing for a few minutes she picked a Disney movie that featured a heroine with yards of blonde hair. They both liked it, and Rose had always thought there was something familiar in the way the hero in the movie had stormed into the girl’s life and swept her away with him into a whole world she hadn't known existed. The hero also didn't get along with the heroine’s mother, go figure. She popped the movie in and perched on the arm of the couch waiting for the Doctor. 

The Doctor was in the kitchen waiting for the popcorn to finish popping when he realized he forgot to ask Rose what she wanted to drink. Frowning at the myriad of choices in the well-stocked fridge, he decided there was nothing for it and padded down the hall to ask her. Rose didn't hear him pause in the doorway and his eyes went saucer-wide when he saw her. Not only had she somehow found another one of the mentally traumatizing pajama sets, but this one was the same shade of blue as the TARDIS with tiny black straps and a skirt of gauzy blue and white panels. Honestly. This was hardly playing fair. He began to wonder if the TARDIS was in on it. The Doctor pondered what to do for a moment and then a grin spread across his face. Two could play at this game. Three minutes later he was standing at the console, using the view screen to adjust the thermostat in the media room. On his way from the kitchen he made a brief stop at the linen closet and then headed in to watch the movie.

Rose felt slightly suspicious when the Doctor walked into the media room with the popcorn and drinks balanced atop of a large stack of blankets. She shrugged it off though, assuming this was just another parka-style attempt to get her to cover up. He could bring in as many blankets as he wanted, Rose wasn't using them. He started the movie, and with a profound sense of déjà vu, she dimmed the lights. The Doctor seated himself on the couch as Rose was walking back over. Thinking fast, she trailed her hand along the back of the couch, lightly brushing his hair with her fingertips as she walked behind him. Then she crossed between him and the screen and flopped down next to him on the couch. Her skirt fluttered and lifted around her, and his traitorous eyes darted over to watch it settle back down on her thighs. 

As the opening song of the movie started the Doctor became hyper aware of the girl sitting next to him. Each time she took a breath her breasts rose enticingly under the blue satin bodice with its black grosgrain trim. Then he noticed the matching straps over her shoulders were tied in small, neat bows, and his fingers itched to find out if those bows were functional or just for show. His plan needed to start working soon or he wasn't going to be held responsible for his actions. A bloke can only take so much, even if that bloke is a 900 year old Time Lord with near perfect self-control. 

Rose was starting to shiver. She hadn't remembered the room feeling so cold when she came in earlier. It was almost as if someone had adjusted the thermostat or something because the room was turning downright frigid. After a few minutes all her skin had come out in goose-flesh and her teeth were actually starting to chatter. Clearly the TARDIS was having some sort of climate malfunction, or…. _or_ he had turned the heat off. That sneaky bastard. Now all the blankets made sense. He _knew_ she was going to need them. Rose squared her shoulders. It was going to take more than a little chill to vanquish her. Although, wasn't the word vanquish nice? She rather wished he was vanquishing her right now, only not with the climate controls.

The Doctor realized he may have made a major tactical error. Somehow he’d forgotten all about her Tyler woman stubbornness when he undertook this plan. It was very possible he was going to end up with a hypothermic companion on his hands, a hypothermic companion wearing a teensy negligee and sporting purple lips. He glanced over at her in concern and noted her chattering teeth and the goose-flesh on her arms. Then he noted something else far more interesting. Rose’s nipples were taut, stiff peaks against the fabric of her top. The Doctor gulped audibly and desperately tried to come up with a way to rectify the situation. Finally he hit on one. 

“Rose, it’s awfully chilly in here, isn't it? I think something is wrong with the climate controls.”

“Oh yeah?” she managed to bite out between her chattering teeth, “I hadn't noticed.”

“Well I’m freezing. Could you pass me a blanket?” he asked politely. 

Rose obligingly passed him a blanket and sat back with her arms crossed over her chest trying to retain what little body heat she had left. He unfolded the blanket, and with studied nonchalance, threw it over himself in a way that half of it landed on Rose. For a moment the Doctor thought she was going to protest, but then she just sighed and snuggled down gratefully. He thought that might have sorted things, but every so often he could feel the vibrations of a shiver go through her. By the time the credits rolled Rose was swathed in several layers of blankets, and her intended coup was in tatters. Neither of them felt like participating in the popcorn war that night, and it ended in a draw. The win for the pajama seduction plan belonged to the Doctor, but he was left with the distinct feeling that an empty victory was no victory at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Days had passed since the thermostat incident and the Doctor contemplated if his reasons for not letting things go further with Rose might be misguided. He even made a list, in Gallifreyan of course, because it would never do for her to stumble across it and read it. On the Cons side he had listed all the things that were keeping him from turning what they had into a full blown romantic relationship. It was filled with things like them being different species, him being far too old for her, her being far too good for him, her limited lifespan, their dangerous lifestyle, how being a Time Lord meant that he was more or less owned by the universe at large and always on call, and possibly being related to Jackie Tyler at some point. 

On the Pros side he listed all the things that made him want to take Rose Tyler to his bed and keep her there for the rest of her natural life. The top one was so terrifying that he wrote it down and then put a paperweight over it and refused to look at it again. After that he had listed things like the fact that she was brave and resourceful, she’d saved his life too many times to count and in ways she didn't even know, the TARDIS adored her, she had this way of drawing people out and finding the best in them (including him), she was sexy and fun, and she’d taken to time travel like a duck to water. He also wrote down the words Bad Wolf and underlined them twice, because if it hadn't been for the extraordinary rescue she pulled on the Game Station, he’d be dead and the universe would be overrun with Daleks. 

After he wrote everything down he sat for a long time just looking at his lists. Then he crossed out _different species_ under the Cons list. It was stupid really. First of all, since the Citadel no longer existed, there was no Council to say whether or not humans and Time Lords could be together. And he absolutely rejected the idea that Rose Tyler was somehow less than he was. If anything she was, as he had written down, far too good for him. The longer he looked at the Cons list the more he realized most of it was simply him being cowardly. Would losing Rose sixty years from now hurt anymore than losing her tomorrow or a year from now? Deep inside he knew it wouldn't. Besides, something could happen to him at anytime and he could burn through his remaining regenerations like a match head. Nothing was certain. She might outlive him. He still worried that he wasn't good for her. He’d never be able to give her the sort of life she deserved. They’d run until she couldn't run anymore and then what? He was rubbish at domestic. And what if she wanted children? Technically it was possible, but with how jeopardy friendly they both were he wasn't sure if it should even be a consideration. He also ended up crossing out the bit about being related to Jackie Tyler. They were getting along so much better since this last regeneration and frankly she made an amazing cup of tea. Jackie wasn't so bad.

Then he looked at his Pros list. Despite having set a paperweight directly over the top reason he kept coming back to it. The rest of the list was impressive, but that first reason was what finally negated everything on his Cons list. He loved Rose Tyler.

Once the Doctor had decided to change things between him and Rose, he had to figure out a way to implement the change. He was fairly sure Rose felt the same way he did, but fairly sure wasn't entirely sure. He needed her to take the lead, so to speak, and unfortunately he’d sort of mucked things up with the whole pajama situation. Rose hadn't worn one of the sets again, and they’d both been avoiding the subject of movie night like the plague. In fact, he might have done too good a job at deterring Rose, because she’d gone right back to treating him like a best mate. Of course, she’d also started wearing that banana body spray she had picked up on Paradiso 3 and the scent of her was driving him mad. So maybe she wasn't completely settled on being best mates after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Rose Tyler was on a mission. So far she’d failed twice in trying to get the Doctor to give in to his feelings for her. The baby-doll pajama plan worked at first, but he’d outsmarted her the second time she tried it. So she started wearing the edible banana scented body spray she'd bought at an outdoor bazaar on some pleasure planet, but aside from his new found proclivity to sniff her surreptitiously, the Doctor seemed immune. Things had stalled out and she needed a new plan of attack.

Then they had a run in with a face stealing alien called the Wire and Rose got her best idea ever. Aside from the whole Wire business, Rose had thoroughly enjoyed their visit to the 1950’s. Firstly, the Doctor had produced a scooter from somewhere in the TARDIS and she got to spend an inordinate amount of time with her arms wrapped around his waist while zipping around on it. Secondly, she got to wear the most fabulous dress. And from the admiring looks she kept noticing the Doctor sending her way, he liked the dress as well. Therefore Rose decided she needed to find another reason to wear a dress like that. Of course, the dress on its own wasn't quite enough. Her plan needed something spectacular if she was going to win the Doctor over completely. It was a conundrum, but she was intent on solving it.

After a few more days of working things out, Rose came up with the rest of her plan. It was at another bazaar on another planet while watching him eat everything in sight where she hit upon a combination that might render the Doctor incapable of resisting her. She was going to cook a full meal for him, _while wearing the dress._ Well, maybe not the same dress, as that one probably reminded him of what she looked like faceless, but another dress. A great dress. Rose needed to visit the wardrobe room. Immediately.

The Doctor was sitting in the console room trying to figure out how to seduce Rose Tyler, but make it seem like her idea, when Rose herself wandered in wearing this absolute confection of a dress. He practically tumbled off the jump seat in shock. 

“Doctor, d’you think we could make a stop off in the 1950’s?” she asked, “I have a recipe I want to try, but the recipe book is from then and I really want it to be authentic.”

He eyed the battered red and white cookbook under her arm. Where on the TARDIS had she unearthed that relic? He certainly didn't remember bringing it on board. Maybe one of his companions had. Probably Tegan, Rassilon's pants, she was a trouble maker. Even when she wasn't around, she could make things go pear-shaped. He realized his mind had gone off wandering on a tangent and snapped back to attention. Rose had just asked a question, what was it again? Oh yeah, right. 

“Let me just make sure I understand. You think in order to make a recipe in a vintage cookbook; you need to travel to that time period just to buy the ingredients?”

“Yep. So could we? Go there? Now? I mean, I already put the dress on for it and everything.”

Rose had never once cracked a cookbook during her entire sojourn on the TARDIS. Something was up, but he decided to play along. “Is there a recipe for cake in there?” 

“Several,” she replied, showing him the tab for the cake section.

“If I do this, will you bake a cake with little edible ball bearings on it?” he asked shrewdly.

She flashed him a smile like the sun. “Absolutely.” 

“Then allons-y Rose Tyler, we’re going to the 1950’s.”

***

Rose had returned from her shopping trip and absconded to the kitchen an hour ago. The Doctor used the time to solidify his plan of seduction and was eager to put it into action. When Rose came bustling back onto the TARDIS earlier he'd noticed the distinct scent of pears wafting from one of her carrier bags. Rose knew he hated pears, but they hadn't discussed it any further than that. Normally he’d be annoyed that she was trying to sneak them on board, but his mind had just hatched the most perfect plot and it all hinged on the horrible, disgusting pears. The plan was simple. He was going to eat a pear, act like he'd been poisoned, and enlist Rose to take care of him. Surely after a few days of attending to a fallen Time Lord, Rose would be overcome with affection for him and seduce him herself. He’d be a most charming patient. There’s no way she’d be able to resist. He’d even get to show her his bedroom, something he’d wanted to do forever. The thought of Rose in his bedroom made him lick his lips in anticipation. It was time.

 

Rose was basting a chicken with a wooden spoon when the Doctor strolled into the kitchen. Her peripheral vision was filled with brown pinstripes as he leaned over her shoulder.

He smiled and tugged on her apron strings. “Say, Rose, did I ever tell you about the time I met a sentient apron on Domesticallerus? It had the most interesting stories about these dinner parties they throw there where everyone brings a talking hat,” he began, while reaching around her stealthily towards the chicken. 

Unimpressed by his diversion tactic, she smacked him smartly with the wooden spoon and he snatched his hand back.

“Don’t. Touch. I spent a long time on this, and M’not having you pull it all to pieces before I can get it on the table. ‘Sides, it’s not even done yet.” She waved the spoon threateningly at him and he glared for a second before he hopped up on the empty counter a few feet away.

Rose couldn't help but think of all the things she’d like to do to him on that counter. It wasn't the first time she’d imagined using the kitchen for recreational purposes. She turned away quickly, biting her lip and hoping he wouldn't notice her blazing cheeks. She needed to focus and stick to the plan. Getting distracted now could ruin everything.

“So, what else did you make for me then, hm?” The Doctor’s eyes flitted around to the other bowls and utensils spread out across the center island. “Oooh, is that the batter for my cake?”

It wasn't long before he was back in motion, picking up random spoons so he could investigate the contents of the containers. Some he sniffed, but most of them went right into his mouth. Rose was desperately trying to ignore him sucking the cake batter off his fingers when he dipped a spoon into a small yellow bowl with his other hand. 

“Doctor, don’t…” she started to say, but he had the spoon in his mouth already and his face was contorted in disgust. 

“Pears! Ugh! Why would you bring pears on the TARDIS?” He made a great show of spitting into the sink. Secretly he was congratulating himself on how well this was going. He fully expected that within the next 24 hours Rose would be seducing the pants off of him. Literally.

Rose just sighed and poured him a glass of water, which he drank with gusto. The pears really were nasty. He regretted that he hadn't come up with something else to induce his fake food poisoning.

“Y’know some people actually LIKE pears,” she said in exasperation, dumping the contents of the bowl into the nearest trash receptacle, “I never expected you to eat them.”

The Doctor looked at her in horror, it was bad enough that his mouth tasted like pears, he didn't know if he could continue with the plan if Rose’s did. “You didn't eat any, did you? Surely not. Not pears.” 

Rose rolled her eyes, he was such a baby. “No, I didn't eat any. You just saw me throw the entire thing away, yeah? Relax; the evil pears have left the building.”

“Technically they are still very much in the building. Not that I approve of you calling my magnificent ship a building, Rose. That pear filled bin is still right here in the kitchen. Three feet from me,” he whined, lifting both eyebrows and pointing in case she forgot where they were.

“Fine,” she huffed, rolling her eyes, “I’ll take the garbage out.”

Rose pulled her apron off, yanked the bag from the trash bin and stomped out of the kitchen towards the incinerator chute. The last thing she saw was the Doctor beaming excitedly as he found the chocolate banana frosting she made for the cake. Five minutes later she came back into the kitchen to find him slumped behind the center island. He looked half-dead. It took all his willpower to keep from smiling.

“Shit,” Rose exclaimed and dove onto the floor next to him so she could shake his shoulders. “Doctor? Hey, look at me. Focus! What happened?” She grabbed his wrist and attempted to take a pulse, not an easy thing when your patient has two hearts. 

He flicked his eyes open and pretended to have trouble finding her face. “Poisoned,” he croaked theatrically, “pears.”

Rose dropped his wrist in panic. “Oh my God, you are _not_ serious! I thought you just didn't like them. Couldn't you have told me that before I left the room?” She felt a tiny bit bad for yelling at him, seeing as how he was rather sick, but honestly! Why hadn't he told her he was allergic to pears after he’d eaten some? For that matter, why wouldn't he have told her it was a food allergy and not just a taste preference in the first place? She was never going to get in his pants if her plan killed him.

His head rolled to the side. “It’s ok, I can metabolize them. I just need time. And to sleep,” he mumbled. It was time to inject the situation with a bit more jeopardy to bring out her nurturing instincts.

Rose bit her lip in fear. His eyes kept glazing over and she was having a hard time holding him upright. Thinking fast, she realized the best place for him was the infirmary where she could monitor his vitals. Thankfully, it was just across the hall. She hauled his spare frame through to the other room, propped him up against the bottom of the first bed while she climbed onto the mattress, and pulled backwards under his arms to slide him up on top. Then she hopped down, no easy feat in her full-skirted dress and heels. She peeled his jacket off and draped it over a nearby stool. 

He felt gleeful that she was already undressing him. This was going to be easier than he thought.

“Doctor, how long do you need to sleep?” she asked while she slipped the blood pressure cuff onto his arm overtop his shirt sleeve.

“A few hours. I’ll be fine, m’always fine. Don’t worry, Rose.” 

His eyes didn't even open this time. Rose could see the lids, slightly purple and delicate under his suddenly still eyebrows. It worried her despite what he had just said. She watched him carefully for any glowing that would indicate regeneration. Rose knew it was selfish, but the last thing she wanted was for him to change now. He was just so perfect, and she was still just getting to know the new, new him. She loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt so she could attach the monitoring equipment. Within seconds the quadruple beep of a Time Lord heartbeat was echoing through the room. It sounded steady and strong. 

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. He seemed fine, just sleeping like he said, although...it was a really deep sleep. Rose experimentally lifted up one of his arms. It was completely limp and lifeless in her hand, wrist slack, fingers reflexively curled in. She tried the other arm, same thing. She patted his cheeks and elicited nothing, not even a blink. Some very dangerous thoughts floated through her mind then, the kind that involved an unconscious Time Lord and an enterprising companion who had finally gotten him at her mercy. She tried desperately to tamp those thoughts down. They were wrong, they were probably illegal in fifty solar systems, they were… _dear God he was hot._

She had to get some self-control or this was about to go south…literally south…mmm south. No. NO, no. She was cool, she was collected…she really wanted to touch his face. Surely that was ok, right? She’d just touch it for a second and then resume monitoring his vitals like a good girl. Rose stretched out her fingers and lightly grazed his temple, tracing down to his cheekbone, across his jaw and under his chin. No reaction. Feeling a little bolder, she traced the line of his eyebrows and nose. He was just so lovely. She had a feeling his previous self might be a bit disconcerted to find out he’d turned into what he probably would have scoffed at as one of Rose’s pretty boys. Her hand drifted lovingly over his aquiline bone structure again. 

Of course, now that she’d opened this Pandora’s Box, she was rather loath to close the lid. Rose found herself taking more liberties while trying not to think too hard about what she was doing. There were a few seconds where she counted freckles, and a few more where she played with his hair. Ok, maybe that was for more than a few seconds, but it wasn't her fault. He had really great hair. And then she decided to go for broke and pressed her lips to his soft, yielding, rather foxy mouth. 

The Doctor couldn't believe his luck. Five minutes into his fake coma and she was already taking advantage of him. Not kissing Rose back almost killed him, but he was dying to see how far she was going to take this.

Sudden visions of being kicked off the TARDIS or possibly even shut away in a storm cell for the rest of her life floated through Rose’s head and put an end to her questionable actions. This was wrong, he wasn't conscious and she was taking advantage of him. It had to stop. She was still hovering there when she felt him shifting under her, and then his amused voice broke across the room like a whip crack.

“Quite nice, that. I can’t wait to see what you plan to do next.” 

Rose briefly wondered if the Shadow Proclamation would even give her a trial or if she’d just be imprisoned for life on charges of molesting the last Time Lord. For two of his double heartbeats she tried not to look at him, but pretending he wasn't there wouldn't save her. Terrified, she straightened up and faced him. There he was, half-raised on his elbows, grinning down at her with one eyebrow raised quizzically. Casually he reached over, flipped the switches on the monitoring devices, pulled the electrodes off his chest and tossed them to the floor. The blood pressure cuff quickly followed.

“You’re awake,” Rose said. It wasn't a question.

“Yep,” he replied, popping the P and inclining his head at her with a cocky little motion that made her knees weak. 

“You weren't sick at all.” She was _so_ busted.

 

“Nope.” He popped the P again, and this time it was accompanied by a serious smirk. Rose Tyler was _so_ busted. Who knew she had it in her? He wondered if he should be appalled. He wasn't.

God, her mouth was dry. He tricked her. She wasn't sure if she should run or stand her ground. Rose eyed the door, but he was much faster than she was and the likelihood of her getting there first was slim. Ok, fine, standing her ground it was. She would just face up to whatever punishment he planned on dishing out, and beg him not to kick her off the TARDIS or turn her over to the Judoon. The problem was that she had no idea how to articulate what she was going to say next. The pause seemed to go on forever while he just sat there and _SMIRKED_ at her.

“I’m in trouble,” she finally stammered.

“Oh yes.” And with that he lunged, grabbed her arms and pulled her up on top of him.


	5. Chapter 5

_“I’m in trouble,” she finally stammered._

_“Oh yes.” And with that he lunged, grabbed her arms and pulled her up on top of him._

 

Rose ended up straddling his hips, nose to nose with a rather dangerous looking Time Lord with her dress spread out over his legs. He slid his hands up her thighs and under the fabric of her slip, slowly moving higher and higher.

“You are in so, so, so much trouble,” he affirmed in a low voice, “Waiting until you had me at your mercy so you could do naughty things to my person. What a little minx you are, Rose Tyler.” Then his dangerous Time Lord act came to an abrupt halt when he hit the top of her thigh high stockings. “Are you wearing suspenders? Stockings and suspenders? And…and…” His hands slid higher. “ _NO_ knickers?” he squeaked out.

“I was just trying to be authentic. I don’t think they had regular tights back then,” she replied feeling an extreme sense of relief. Surely if he were going to toss her off the TARDIS he wouldn't start by putting his hands up her dress. 

“Weeell, yes," he drawled, "You might be right on that one, but I’m fairly certain they wore knickers.”

“Oh really? Have you ever tested that theory, Doctor?” Rose had him stymied there. 

Ignoring her question, he asked her one of his own. “Exactly why are you running around the TARDIS without…?” He slid his hands up and down again to illustrate. “Hmmm?”

“A good companion is always prepared.” she replied primly, and adjusted slightly in his lap. The movement caused him to suck in his breath, hard. Rose noticed it wasn't the only thing that was hard. Ok, definitely not getting kicked off the TARDIS then.

“Remember all those times I said you were brilliant?” 

She rocked down against him and he gasped again. “I remember.”

“Right, well, what I meant to say is that you are really, stunningly, incredibly brilliant. Blimey, no knickers.” This was shaping up to be the most fantastic day ever.

He sat up suddenly as a new thought grabbed his mind. “Rose, what exactly did you mean when you said you were, erm, being prepared? Prepared for what?” 

“What do you think?” She looked at him meaningfully and trailed her fingers from his shoulders down to his stomach, scratching lightly with her nails. She was rewarded with the ecstatic self-satisfied giggle he always made when something really went his way.

“I thought maybe it was something like that. Well, I hoped it was, anyway.” He grinned infectiously at her, and she couldn't help but return it. Rose Tyler, not wearing knickers for _him_. Yep, definitely the most fantastic day ever. And he’d had some fantastic days in 900 years.

Not wanting to lose the momentum of what they miraculously had going on, Rose plucked at his belt buckle, sliding the leather band through the metal catch. “Doctor, do you think we could maybe move this to a bed without rails?”

Could they _EVER_. Without hesitation he pulled the belt free, set Rose down and took her hand to lead her out of the infirmary. He bypassed the corridor which led to her room and tugged her down the one that led to his. Once the got there, the Doctor threw the door open and ushered her over the threshold. Then he stood there, watching her almost shyly. 

Rose decided Doctor’s bedroom looked like a cross between an intergalactic thrift store and a planetarium. Bits of mechanical flotsam, unidentifiable jetsam, and innumerable books were piled up everywhere in jumbles and stacks. The ceiling was deep blue with swirling Gallifreyan script and various constellations twinkling and shining against the darkness. Walls of dark wood were separated by lighter wood beams interspersed at regular intervals cut in flowing shapes. It took Rose a moment to realize that the entire space was round, beams running up to a central spot in the ceiling that culminated in a round planet with strange continents floating across its surface.

“Gallifrey,” he said quietly. It was the first time he’d shared this particular facet of his room since, well since…he didn't want to think about it.

Rose studied each unfamiliar land mass in silence, her hand linked in his. “S’beautiful,” she responded, squeezing his fingers. 

After a few more moments she pulled her eyes away and noticed a rickety coat rack in the corner covered up with all sorts of random clothing. She couldn't make everything out, but there in the top layer she could see a very familiar leather jacket and a gigantic multi-colored scarf.

“Are those all yours?” she asked, eyes pricking a bit at the sight of her first Doctor’s jacket. That didn't go unnoticed.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned down so he could rest his chin on her shoulder. “Yep, see that scarf? One of my favorites, you should have seen me dashing around in it. I wonder how it would look with pinstripes?” he mused.

The Doctor’s voice was tickling her ear and she turned her face towards his, seeking him out. He caught the hint quickly and adjusted so their mouths could meet. It was gentle, that first real kiss, and a bit tentative on his part. She could almost hear him thinking his way through it. His lips were chilly like his fingers and the face she took in her hands. A delicious shiver ran down her spine as his tongue slipped in, lapped against hers and then slipped out again. She chased it right back into his mouth and he moaned, burying his hands in her hair and walking them backwards towards the bed. 

The kiss certainly wasn't tentative now, tongue diving and teeth lightly pulling on her lower lip as he sat on the bed and positioned her in his lap. He couldn't believe how hot and sweet her mouth was. Kissing Rose was something he could do for hours. Rose didn't want to wait hours. She wanted him now. Frantically forcing the buttons at his cuffs through the holes, she slid his oxford off and dropped it on the floor. He caught on to her mood quickly which led to a bit of a scramble. Neither of them wanted to break the kiss, but she was trying to undo his trousers and her dress kept getting in the way. 

Finally they pulled apart, both laughing, and he pushed her clumsy fingers away with one swipe so he could do it himself. She refused to be sidelined though, he may have gotten the button, but that zip was all hers. She found the small metal catch and drew it down. He lifted his hips to ease the flow and she had a moment of complete and utter wrong-footedness when she found out she wasn't the only one walking around the TARDIS with no pants.

“You uh, you’re not wearing…”

“Nope,” he interjected with a sniff, “Seem to have forgotten them. How about that.” 

“Is there, um, any reason why you’re suffering from underpants amnesia?” she asked, eyes huge as the evidence of his arousal escaped its pinstriped confines. It was impressive to say the least.

He smirked wickedly at her, tongue pressed against his front teeth. “Let’s just say you aren't the only one who believes in being prepared.” 

Rose decided he deserved a kiss for his preparedness and he must have agreed because he responded enthusiastically, snogging her for all he was worth. His hands climbed her arms and she felt his fingers fan out across her shoulder blades, leaving feathery little chills in their wake. Without warning he broke the kiss, flipped her on her back, and threw her full skirt and tulle slip up onto her chest. She started to wiggle away, an automatic response from being so exposed but he grasped her hips firmly, halting her retreat. Rose felt a blush spread from her toes to her hairline as his eyes came to rest somewhat south of her belly button.

“Rose Tyler,” he enthused delightedly, “is that a landing strip? It IS! Oh, I should have tossed up your skirts ages ago.”

Then he snagged a large pillow and tucked it behind her head. The next thing she knew, he had disappeared beneath a froth of skirt and petticoat. All she could see was the sexy, messy hair on the top of his head. She felt him pushing her legs apart, and stared up at the ceiling, watching the stars and planets align as he nibbled and nipped at the skin on her inner thighs. When his cool tongue finally touched her hot centre she jumped. He paused and rested his chin on her pubic bone.

“Too cold?” he asked. Rassilon, he hoped not. He REALLY wanted to do this. Especially now that he’d already gotten a taste.

“No, not to cold. That was…that was very nice.”

She felt the reverberation of him chuckling against her skin and closed her eyes when she sensed him moving his head back into position. He began again. First with small flicking licks and nips, and then bolder, stronger. Longer licks, experimental sucking and this one thing he kept doing that she couldn't even describe, but had her writhing wantonly against the duvet. After a few minutes he gauged what she liked best by her response and set up a pattern that had her arching and bowing off the bed. Each time she got close he backed down the intensity until she was practically in tears from the tension. She tried a few times to catch his head and pull him in closer, until finally he gave her an evil look and grabbed both her wrists, pinning them to the bed. 

 

“You could always ask for what you want, you know. I’m very obliging that way,” he said. Then he lowered his mouth again and she gasped and bucked beneath him.

“Please!”

“That’s hardly a proper request. You aren't even specifying what you want,” he murmured, tongue lazily circling her clit as she shuddered, “You will just have to do better than that.”

“Doctor, wanna…wanna come” she said with an urgency she couldn't hide, “please let me…PLEASE!”

Apparently that was specific enough, because he started in again with earnest, sincere intent. Within seconds Rose was crashing into her orgasm, spine curved, head thrown back. Gasping and moaning with his head trapped between her thighs. He gave her one more long lingering lick that had her shaking from the contact with her over sensitive skin and pulled himself up to wrap his arms around her waist and rest his head on her chest. She dropped one hand to his back, and ran the other one through his thick hair. 

“Are you tired?” The Doctor’s warm eyes gazed up into her hers and he reached to brush some hair off her cheek.

“No, just need a minute to catch my breath. Then it’s your turn.”

“My turn? Really? What would my turn entail exactly?” he asked, and rose up to look at her. Rose could feel the boyish excitement beginning to build.

“Give me thirty more seconds and I’ll show you,” she replied, ruffling the hair at the front of his head. She was rewarded with a noise that practically sounded like a purr. 

The Doctor was dying to find out what his turn involved, and was hoping against hope that his idea of what it was would prove to be correct. His lips began to move against her ribcage, tickling like mad as he whispered a countdown from thirty. 

Rose rumpled through his hair with both hands and laughed out loud at his antics even as she squirmed from the feeling. “You are a right nitwit, you know that?” 

“I’m _your_ right nitwit,” he replied, “and Rose? It’s my turn!” He hopped off her and reclined back on the bed in expectation, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh no, no bed for you. You’re standing. Go on then. Shift.” Rose shoved him towards the side of the bed with both hands.

She expected an argument but he climbed off the bed obediently and just stood there, waiting. Rose slid off after him and placed a hand on his chest so she could back him up until he was trapped against one of the curved walls. Then she gave him a brilliant smile, dropped to her knees and lifted him free of his unzipped trousers. Watching him all the while, she leaned forward and ran her tongue softly under the ridge of his head. His breath hitched and she could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. She repeated the action, but this time she followed it up with a firm lick from the base to the tip. The Doctor’s hips jerked involuntarily and he hissed through his teeth. She decided a little torture was in order and gave him a flurry of small, fleeting licks before taking the whole thing in her mouth and going down for one long stroke. 

“Jesus Christ,” he said, hands resting on her shoulders, head dropped back against the wall. 

“You don’t believe in Christian deities,” she responded, increasing the pressure a little.

“I’m willing to give them another go,” he gasped. 

She decided to up the ante and guided his hand up towards his cock. “Show me what you like,” she asked, placing his fingers under her own. 

His pupils were huge and his whole body was moving with each panting breath. Did Rose really want him to? In front of her? While she? Yes. Yes she did. Molto fucking bene. He was all over this. With their eyes still locked the Doctor began to slide his hand up and down, squeezing harder at the head each time. After a few seconds of watching she waited until his hand came back up and delicately licked between his fingers as he finished the stroke. He made a strangled sound deep in his throat. The next time his hand came up she took the head in her mouth and followed it back down. He increased the pressure and speed and she followed his lead, keeping her eyes locked on his the whole time. This just felt so damn good. Too good. The Doctor’s hips had started a definite rhythm and he knew that if it went on any longer things would rapidly come to a head. His seduction plan had specific steps, and he had to stop her or they were going to miss a very major one. 

“Not like this. Inside you, Rose, please. The first time, I want…please.” His voice was rough and desperate.

She released him and he scooped her up and laid her back on the bed. Then he yanked the laces of his trainers free and stripped off the rest of his clothes. Reaching under her with both hands, he pulled the zipper of her dress down and helped her lift it off. Her petticoat and bra followed the dress into a little pile of froth and pink on the floor along with her shoes. He was admiring the gorgeous picture she made lounging back on the bed 93.4% undressed when he had a brilliant idea. 

“Hm,” he said, toying with one of her suspender clips, “Rose, would you be averse to leaving these on?”

“Kinky,” she replied.

“Rose Tyler, you have _no_ idea.”

She looked at the naked lust on his face and said, “I think I’m going to enjoy finding out.”

“Mmm,” The Doctor agreed, biting her hip just under the garter belt and sucking on the skin there. He pulled back to look at the mark he’d made and smiled in satisfaction.

“Kinky _and_ possessive,” she said.

“Would you rather I wasn't?” he queried, kissing his way up her body.

“No,” she admitted, “I like it. Wonder what that says about me?”

“That you have amazing taste. At least, I think so. And while we're on the subject of taste may I just say that you, Rose Tyler, are delicious. I've been dying to get my mouth on you for months.” He licked the dip between her clavicles and continued up her neck until he could take her earlobe in his teeth.

“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” she said distractedly as worked her knees apart with one of his own and settled between them. 

“It’s about to get better,” he averred.

Rose slid her fingers into his hair and pulled his face down close to hers. “Prove it.”

“With pleasure, Rose Tyler.” And slowly, one incredible inch at a time, he sheathed himself in her slick heat. 

She tilted her hips to bring him closer and he wrapped his fingers around them angling her so he could close the final bit of distance between them. Rose thought she had never seen anything as beautiful as the Doctor’s face at that moment. Mouth slack, eyes dark and hazy with desire and something that looked an awful lot like wonder, he held himself suspended above her on his palms just drinking her in. 

He flexed his hips, withdrawing lazily and then buried himself in her again with sharp thrust. The rhythm was deliberately teasing, and soon Rose was arching beneath him trying to change the movement into something faster and more forceful. Recognizing what she wanted, he swept both her wrists up over her head and held them there in one hand, using the other to lift one of her legs so a stocking clad ankle rested on his shoulder. She reveled in the increased friction, lifting to meet him as he plunged into her with abandon. 

The Doctor had imagined the first time he made love to Rose Tyler would be slow and romantic. This was frantic and urgent and he wouldn't have had it any other way. Rose thought there had never been a single moment in her life that equaled the mind-blowing push and pull of sensation that was happening between them right now. And then he used his free hand to caress her where their bodies were joined and Rose lost track of thought completely as she came around him with a fluttering clench of muscles and his name on her lips. He couldn't resist her body's assault on him and with a muffled moan into her mouth the Doctor emptied into her, every line of his body taut and shaking. After a moment he released her leg and collapsed on top of her. Rose cradled him in her arms and wrapped her ankles around his waist, just holding him close and feeling the slowing gallop of his hearts against her chest. 

“Well?” he mumbled into the join of her shoulder and neck.

“Very impressive.”

“Like you thought it would be anything less,” he scoffed. 

“Um,” she paused, “I've seen you pilot the TARDIS, so…”

“Rose Tyler!” he said in a scandalized tone, lifting up to confront her, “Are you questioning my driving abilities?”

Rose bit her lip, trying not to smirk.

“You are! I’ll have you know that I am a very good pilot. Very competent, in fact, I’m the best TARDIS pilot in the universe.”

“Yeah, you’re the only TARDIS pilot in the universe,” she retorted.

“Oh, you are so getting what for now,” he said and lucky for Rose, he was as good as his word.


End file.
